The Misadventures of Annie Leonhart
by littledarkangelhippie
Summary: They just want her to be happy, but they all know Annie is most content when she's by herself. A new year has started and, with it, come fresh beginnings. Her friends want to set her up with someone. Only problem, everyone else is too scared of Annie to be with her. And then the new kid shows up... (AU. Beruani)
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.****: I've been attacked by the inspiration panda again, guys...**

**I actually have other stories for this couple (probably three) but I can't exactly finish them right now. I keep hitting dead ends in them.**

**I hope you enjoy this story anyway. I haven't written a multi-chaptered story in a long while. (Hope I can do it.)**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own ****_Shingeki no Kyojin. _**

"Got any goals for this year?" Reiner inquires from somewhere to her right.

Keeping her eyes on her book, she turns her head to make it clear she's heard him. When he does not repeat himself—a trait, she'll admit, she hates in a person—she slides a bookmark in her place and turns in her seat to acknowledge him. He is large for their age, muscles straining the fabric of his uniform in some places and creasing them in others. His hair is short and a sunny blond brighter than the shade of her own, and his eyes are some sort of mixture between honey and hazel that might've been lovely if not for the features that accompany them, which are formed into a vague form of scowl permanently set on his face. The familiar smile he offers warms his appearance some, but not much.

"I have no idea what you mean," she mutters, sliding the novel into her bag and leaning back into her chair.

He rests his chin in his palm, heaves a sigh and says, "I _mean_: Is there anything you want to accomplish by the end of this year?" When she continues to stare, in that impassive way that she does, he continues to say, "Like, maybe...making some new friends?"

"I don't need friends," she immediately snaps, although they both know that isn't true. She spends her lunches in the library and walks to and from school _alone_. She doesn't mind it, however much he insists she does. She prefers to be on her own and this is as much a fact of her as the color of her own skin.

He rolls his wrist idly and quirks another smile, but it only faintly graces his face. "C'mon. There has to be something you want to do. Aside from painting your nails and eating healthier and whatever else girls do."

She looks away, pressing her lips into a thin line. He must not know much about women, then. She'd never expected him to, as foolish as he is.

"If not friends, then—"

"My grades are perfect."

"Then—"

"I have a daily routine to keep myself in shape."

"So—"

"I have an interview next week for a job."

"_Annie_," he complains, waving his hands in the aisle of space between them.

"I'm _fine_," she hisses, narrowing her eyes at him. "I don't need to work on anything and I certainly don't need any changes in my life right now." She crosses her arms and levels a glare at him when he doesn't look any shade of surprised at her outburst. "If you knew I'd react this way, then why did you ask?"

"We're friends," he says, in a tone that speaks volumes of his exhaustion with this topic alone. "I was only curious."

"I don't remember ever agreeing to being your friend."

"You paying attention to me is agreement enough."

She promptly tunes him out and begins to do her homework.

~~...~~x~~...~~

"I'm curious as well," Mikasa murmurs during their passing period, leaning against the restroom wall and watching her wash her hands in the sink. The scarf wrapped around her neck is more sensible now than it usually is, considering she never takes it off; the cold weather has given her the excuse. Her voice is tranquil, mature, and it causes a calm in Annie that she knows she should be more wary of. She glances over at her briefly, and then dries her hands on a paper towel. "It's a new year. What do you plan to do?"

"The same as last year," Annie states curtly, straightening to fix the hem of her skirt down toward her knees and pick a black thread from her white button-up. "Study hard. Get good grades."

Mikasa's dark eyes move away from her, toward the wall, and a distinctly flustered expression touches upon her normally collected features. "I'll confess," she says quietly, lowering her voice until only the both of them can hear, "I have begun to feel attracted toward a boy in my class, and I may or may not think about approaching him about it..."

This could mean a number of things. Knowing Mikasa, it is unlikely she will say anything at all to the boy, but there is the off-chance that, perhaps, she may. Annie wouldn't put it past her to. After all, no one in the world has as much courage as Mikasa herself.

Considering Mikasa is a year below her, she doesn't bother to ask who the boy is. Her spectrum of friends and acquaintances isn't exactly vast in any way or form.

"I won't give you advice on the matter," Annie says dryly. "You already know what you're going to do."

Mikasa's glossed lips turn up shortly. "I wasn't looking for advice. I only wanted you to know that I myself am ready for change. You can be, too."

Annie pinches the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes. "What you're saying is that you want me to do something similar."

"What I'm saying is that maybe your goal for this year doesn't purely have to be academic. What I'm saying is that maybe it would benefit you—and me, if I decide to do the same—to begin a romantic relationship with someone."

Annie stiffens, blinking her eyes wide. "No. Absolutely not."

A thin inky brow raises, a question spoken despite it being silent.

"I don't want anybody."

"I didn't either."

"That's different," Annie mutters, shifting her weight to one leg and lifting one shoulder for a second before dropping it. "I highly suspect I'm asexual."

"Don't be ridiculous, you've liked boys before."

"In grade school. I am here to learn, not to be distracted by some idiotic, girlish fantasies."

Mikasa turns on her heel, walking over to the door. "And here I thought you'd be supportive."

"Of you. Not me."

She glances back, onyx eyes flashing. "Just think about it, Annie."

~~...~~x~~...~~

She becomes intensely aware after that of all the males she comes across; in the hallways or the classrooms, or even the courtyards as she makes her way across campus. None of them fit the criteria her subconscious mind has made up. Some are too good looking and some aren't good looking enough. Some are too large, some are too small. This one has red hair and she very suddenly doesn't like red hair so much. That one has eyes a shade of brown she doesn't like. Most are too repulsive for her to be attracted to, and a few are simply not outstanding enough for her to take notice of them.

By her lunch break she assumes there is no one left for her to consider, and settles contentedly back into herself with a sense of misplaced triumph ringing in her head. She will most certainly explain to Mikasa that there is no fathomable way she will be able to meet the goal she'd set up for her.

There is no one she wants to be with.

She collects her bag and escapes to the library, moving through the crowds as they make their way to the cafeteria on the other side of campus. The halls empty out and the only noise that remains are her footsteps, hard-soled shoes clicking against the floors. The doors to the library are high and ancient, and they clang when she opens and closes them behind her. The smell of new and old books alike cloud her head and she drifts past the busy librarian to a particularly quiet section at the back by the windows. Some tables are set up, and she chooses the chair at the very end to sit in, pulls out studying materials and pencils and a small lunch box to lay out on the surface.

She takes a bite out of an apple and begins to work her way through the math problems given to her earlier in the day.

Halfway through, she is jolted out of her activities by a hand on her shoulder, gently tapping her—the act itself is fleeting, a mere whisper of a touch brushing across a short span before pulling away quickly—she jumps, startled, and jerks away to look up at the perpetrator. She quickly finds that she has to tilt her head much further back to actually _see _them, almost until her back has to arch into the chair and her neck gives a pang in complaint.

A boy. A very tall boy. Judging from the incorrect uniform he wears, he is a transfer student, and from the particularly tanned skin, he is most likely from the more southern regions. The light above them casts his face in shadow, and although she can make out the color of his hair and the slope of his nose, his expression is entirely a mystery. She feels a short rush of fear, but shoves it away and shakes her head.

Irrational of her. Her manners came first, even if belated.

"What do you want?" she demands, and quickly regrets her choice of tone. _Even if rude_, she adds mentally.

"Ah," he mumbles, deep voice nervous and uncertain, "I—I'm new here..."

"Yes," she says impatiently. "I can see that."

"I was... I was wondering if you could help me," he continues hesitantly, fidgeting underneath her glare. "You see—"

"You need the current reading materials for your English class."

"I—yes. How did you know?"

She gestures around her patiently. "You're in the library. I'm only assuming."

He tugs at his sleeve anxiously, turning his face away further. "I...I'm afraid I'm not well acquainted with this type of school."

Her eyes move over his form, the way he curves inwardly and how his hands continue to fidget at the cuffs of his sleeves. She tries to gauge where he's from exactly by the color of his uniform alone, to pick out some sort of indication. He shifts uncomfortably the longer she stares, bowing his head to further hide his already obscured expressions.

"You come from the countryside," she says, "from a public school."

"It was very different from here," he replies carefully, straightening only a little. "Not at all like this..." He looks around at the massive bookcases and finely carved wooden beams supporting the high ceilings, the intricate windows spanning whole walls and the polished tables set up with matching chairs.

She wonders if perhaps she's insulted him somehow, and considers apologizing for a moment. It was possible he couldn't afford to go to a school like this and had only managed to get in at all due to impeccable grades, or maybe his family had run into some bad fortune where he lived and were forced to move here, and he had only ended up here by chance—no, that seems a bit farfetched. It may have been something simpler than that. Maybe he just decided he wanted to broaden his horizons and enroll in a highly acclaimed school.

Maybe he just decided to come here for the fun of it.

She looks away, closing her notebooks and putting away her supplies. "I'll help you," she says shortly. "What class are you in?"

He rifles through his pack and pulls out a folded piece of paper from a smaller pocket. She takes it immediately—_snatches _it, really—and reads the schedule printed on it quickly. She stands and pushes her chair in, and he steps back accordingly, as if afraid he'll invade her space somehow. "You're in some of my classes," she states, waving it for him to take. She turns and makes her way across the library, hears him stumble after her hurriedly.

She leads him through an older section, where classic literature either sat collecting dust or books leaned against each other from all the time they spent checked out for educational purposes. A hush always falls over this particular area, no matter who dwelled within its heavy atmosphere, and he seems to feel it immediately, hunching his shoulders up against it.

She speaks anyway, unbothered by the air stifling her very thoughts. "We're currently studying the work of Shakespeare, most especially _Hamlet_." She stops before a specific bookcase and motions up at the neatly placed volumes and novels, the spines of which gleam in the sunlight filtering through the window. "It'd be best to study some of his previous plays and, perhaps, even check out a biography on him. We have an essay due in a few weeks on the meaning behind the play itself. Prepare for that."

He nods once, reaching over to pick a paperback copy of _Hamlet_. He holds it up to see in the light, turning toward the window just behind her. When he does, his features are better illuminated, revealing what the florescent lights had not.

She notes, bitterly, that he isn't bad looking at all.

She hopes this isn't because of what Mikasa had told her earlier.

"For your history class, you'll want to get a European textbook. We're studying the Renaissance." She pulls a thick volume from the shelf nearest her, holding it out for him to take. "Some notebooks and a good calculator will do just fine for your math and science classes."

He holds the books close to his chest, offering a smile lost to her; she looks away far too soon to see it. "Thank you, ah... I didn't catch your name...?"

"I never said it," she says, tone clipped.

He grows silent.

She wonders if she sounded too rude.

And then wonders why she wonders that at all.

"If you'll excuse me, I must get to class."

"I didn't hear—"

The bell rings suddenly, and she marches back to gather her things and sweep out into the hallway, where fellow students begin to pour in from outside once more.

~~...~~x~~...~~

She's in the middle of completing the class assignment when there's a sudden murmuring of excitement around her. She contemplates ignoring it, but there's a tugging at her sleeve that insists otherwise.

She looks up briefly, shooting him a glare. "Reiner, I swear I will cut your hand off if you don't—" He yanks his hand away and gives a placating smile. "What do you want?"

He sits back in his chair and nods toward the front of the class. "New student."

She only spares a glance, unsurprised to see the boy from earlier standing uncertainly beside the professor, who speaks in low, serious tones to him. "Am I supposed to care?" she asks sardonically, turning back to her work.

She feels him lean across the aisle between them and refrains from moving away from him. In a secretive manner, he whispers, "He's cute." When she stares at him, in that deadpan way she always will, he chuckles underneath his breath. "Don't act like you don't agree."

"What are you trying to play here?" she says quietly, muted out by the chattering around them.

He blinks innocently.

"Don't pull that with me," she snaps. "You and Mikasa both."

He turns his body completely toward her, and she notes that everyone else in the classroom is enthralled by the new student, watching him intently; it offers them better privacy. "We want you to get into a relationship."

"I got that much."

"Well, everyone here _knows _you, Annie." He shrugs lightheartedly. "They're all too scared to go out with you."

"You're planning on setting me up with the new kid."

"This is new," he reassures, holding up his hands. "Up until now, I was trying to figure out who _isn't _scared of you—then walks in this guy,"—he nods over at the boy discretely—"and I saw my chance. So...yeah, I'm trying to set you up with the new kid."

She tapped the stack of papers on her desk until they were neat and straight. "No."

"Now, just think about it—"

"Look here," she commands, sitting up as tall as she can, lifting her chin and holding his gaze, "I will not allow you to degrade me, I am my own person and _I'll _decide what I'll do or won't do. You have no—"

"Miss Leonhart," Mr. Smith speaks over her, "is there something you and Mr. Braun would like to share with us?" His icy eyes move to her smoothly, an expectant look on his face.

Her mouth snaps shut when a roll of laughter flows through the class. "No, sir," she forces out. "Pardon my impoliteness."

When the teacher turns back to his conversation, Reiner leans back toward her with a smirk cracking up his face. "He's staring at you."

She looks before she can help it, and finds a pair of light-colored eyes trained on hers. The boy's face tinges a faint pink at being caught and he turns his face away quickly. She furrows her eyebrows slowly.

"Oh, will you look at that," Reiner teases, tilting his head to the side with a grin. "He's already interested."

She raises her hand. "Mr. Smith, Reiner is harassing me now."

"Mr. Braun," Mr. Smith warns, "if you don't leave Miss Leonhart alone, I will write you a detention."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He glares at her, sliding back in his seat. "_Dick_."

"Mr. Braun."

"Sorry, sir."

She rests her chin in her hand and hides her smug expression behind the coverage her bangs allow.

~~...~~x~~...~~

"Miss Leonhart, please see me after class," Mr. Smith calls from his desk when the bell rings.

Reiner shrugs when she looks over at him, gathering up their things to go. She walks behind him as he heads toward the exit and punches his arm once just before they part; he curses under his breath and glowers at her sourly. She waits until Mr. Smith finishes scribbling his notes across an essay a student turned in late, folding her hands behind her back. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes." He clicks his pen and sets it aside. "It's a matter of your behavior, I'm afraid."

She mentally promises to beat the hell out of Reiner the next time she sees him.

Mr. Smith is a very serious man, tall and assertive and exceptionally passionate about his work. He never takes anything lightly, and prefers to keep a professional and sensible approach to most everything he does. He is the kind of man willing to do anything to defend what he believes in.

She thinks this may be his own downfall.

"You are one of my top students," he commends, presses his knuckles onto the surface of his desk. "But you are scoring terribly in citizenship."

Her nails bite into her palms, she's clenching her fists so tight. "What do you propose I do?" she asks as calmly as she can. She's mentally kicking herself for her asocial tendencies. If only she'd been more open, more accepting of others and their attempts of befriending her, she wouldn't be in this situation. Perfect scores in everything except her very own behavior. She wants to slap herself for it.

He smiles patiently, opens his hands up toward the ceiling in a sign of comfort; she only stares up at him. "We have a new student."

"Yes."

"How about you extend a helping hand to him?" he offers. "Show him around and get him into after school activities. Or maybe tutor him if he needs it. Anything, Miss Leonhart, anything to raise your marks."

"Thank you, sir. I'll do just that." She turns to leave, clenching the straps of her bag.

"You can't live your life secluded from others. You have a great future ahead of you. Don't waste that." His tone is sincere, and she lets herself feel mildly shocked by it.

"Thank you, sir."

The door clangs shut behind her.

~~...~~x~~...~~

She's walking toward the main entrance when Mikasa catches up to her. Her black hair sways around her shoulders and her skirt swishes over her legs, her footsteps bounding loud in the empty hallway. She stops running once she's beside Annie, and begins a normal pace as they continue on.

"You were held after," she says immediately, shifting her gaze to Annie. The question is left unspoken, onyx eyes silently concerned.

"I must prove I am a good peer," she replies solemnly. "I show a lack of 'citizenship.'"

Mikasa nods. "I see. How will you do it?"

"We have a new student. I must demonstrate politeness and camaraderie in order to succeed." She holds the door open and lets it fall shut behind them. It's windy outside, and the breeze that whips at their skin makes her regret not bringing anything to keep her warm. Mikasa only tugs her scarf up over her mouth in a fretful way.

"I'm not sure I can imagine you being kind to anyone."

They stop at the end of the walk, turning to face each other. "I'll have to be," she sighs. "For now."

Mikasa turns to go, pauses, and then glances back at Annie. Her eyes are tight and grave. "Remember what we talked about earlier. I'm not doing this alone."

She scowls at her feet. "I won't forget."

But she won't make any promises on anything.

~~...~~x~~...~~

The subways are often loud and jammed with boisterous people and clamoring trains scraping along the rails; steaming and jerking and popping in her ears. Maybe it's because she hates loud things as a whole, but she can't stand any of it, and often finds herself promising to buy a car as soon as she can collect the money; although she can never be sure when she may, she keeps vowing it in her head while she leans away from the other passengers and holds her breath when someone begins to cough somewhere.

She hurries down the stairs to level ground and is quick to find her place near the line to board the train. There are times the afternoon crowd is less plentiful than others, and this, thankfully, is one of those days. It will be easy for her to slip onto it before anyone else can shove her aside, and she prepares herself for the oncoming scramble.

"Ah—Miss Leonhart," a male voice pipes up from behind her.

No one in her school takes the train, she is sure of it. She tries to remember if she's ever seen anyone she knows, even in glimpses, but cannot conjure a single image. She twists to look over her shoulder at whoever called her name, and feels a simultaneous sense of dismay and surprise—one-part because of Reiner and one-part because she doesn't altogether dislike him; he's hardly made an impression at all—when she finds the new boy standing a few feet away.

He's waiting awkwardly for her to speak, tenses his shoulders when she stares for too long.

"Oh. The new student," she says as way of greeting, raising her brows fractionally.

He reddens slightly, possibly because of her dismissing attitude. "Actually, my name is—"

The trains storms up, cutting him off entirely. She turns to watch it sliding into place almost smoothly.

She moves to leave, and then catches herself. Mr. Smith's words ring in her ears, reminding her of her bad scores. She looks at him again, his fingers curled into his sleeves and brow furrowed. "Do you take this train?" she asks.

"I do, yes."

She clutches at the straps of her bag again, bringing her arms close to her sides. "Would you like to join me?"

He gives a very small, very timid smile. "Yes, I would."

She steps onto the train before him, weaving past other passengers to find a safe place to stand. There are so many people she doesn't doubt he'll lose her; she isn't very tall when compared to others of average height, and he himself _is_. When she finds a good place, she checks to see if he is still beside her, and silently praises him for keeping track of her, as he stands beside her diligently.

They both remain quiet, letting the chattering of the other passengers overtake any conversation she can ever possibly begin.

She has made it an art of holding still in the train as they shoot through the tunnels underground, crossing her arms tight into herself and trusting her leg muscles to do all the work. The handles are either too high in the middle or are occupied by others. Today it is the former, but he can reach them easily—she notes bitterly—and holds on as the train begins its trek across town. Any stops have them gaining too many passengers and losing too few, just enough that it is impossible for her to stretch her arm out even a little without touching someone in some sort of way.

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem. Annie is small, and this is the only instance she can think of where she doesn't particularly mind it. She can draw into herself and twist away all she pleases when the train rocks or someone steps too close. But with the boy so close beside her and his insistence at remaining near her, this becomes almost impossible. Her attempts at getting away only bring her closer to him, and her attempts at getting away from _him_ only bring her closer to _them_.

Annie has never liked close-spaces. They make her feel trapped.

She doesn't expect to him to realize this, even if she's somehow certain he'd understand if he did.

The train gives a jerk on a turn; people sway or stumble or hold fast to the handles above them. He hardly moves, she notices the split second before she knocks into him. He's very still. She falls toward him. Someone behind her has jabbed their elbow into her back and presses her to him, and although they quickly correct themselves once the train settles, and she pulls away as quickly as she can, the sensation remains.

Annie has never been in that sort of position with a boy before.

He mumbles, "Are you alright, Miss Leonhart?" His voice only speaks of anxiety, worrying over her well-being, but she can't help thinking he is accusing her of something. He isn't, she sees he is only purely concerned when she glances up to meet his eyes, but the feeling stays.

"I'm fine," she says curtly.

He grows quiet, most likely assuming she doesn't want to speak to him now.

She knows she should wonder if this will somehow affect her progress toward fixing her marks.

Instead, she wonders if she's hurt his feelings somehow.

~~...~~x~~...~~

Later that night in her room, she presses her hands against her chest and wonders if he noticed how small her breasts are.

And then immediately hates herself for it.

~~...~~X~~...~~

**A.N.****: Yo.**

**Annie attends a very expensive, renowned private high school. True to her character, she has very few friends and prefers to keep it that way. She keeps good grades to stay in school and is upset by any sort of failure on her part. Reiner is her childhood friend and Mikasa is a relatively new friend of hers, both of whom want Annie to begin a relationship with someone, for different reasons.**

**Reiner, because he wants to see her happy (as her oldest friend). Mikasa, because she wants to begin one as well but won't do it unless Annie will (they're similar people, in some aspects, so Mikasa assumes that if Annie can do it, so can she).**

**Bertholdt comes from the countryside. Fish out of water sort of deal, I suppose.**

**So. Tell me what you think so far! Should I continue, or is this story a swirling mass of disappointment that needs to be burned?**

**Review please. Let me know. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.****: Hey there. How's it going? Mighty fine day we're having, huh?**

**(Or night. I don't know.)**

**Ha. Dialogue. It's been awhile since I've used so much of it.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own ****_Shingeki no Kyojin_.**

"His name is Bertholdt," Reiner murmurs as soon as she sits down.

The bell hasn't even rung yet and she isn't sure how he got here before her—she keeps a strict schedule after all, and prefers to be early to this particular class; science isn't her strong suit, really, and she uses this time to study or ask questions about the previous night's homework—so she is slow to react when he speaks at all. "How do you even know that? What the hell did you do?"

He cocks a brow and smirks haughtily. "You're not the only one who shows up to school at ungodly hours. He was wandering around when I found him. Figured I'd ask his name for future reference."

She narrows her eyes at him. "What are you planning?"

He blinks innocently. "Nothing of consequence," he assures, but then he smiles and she immediately doesn't believe him.

"You leave me out of this," she says. "I don't need you _or _Mikasa setting me up with anyone."

"He's nice," Reiner offers, shrugging flippantly. "A little quiet and gawky, but who isn't these days?"

"A lot of people," she snaps.

"If I were you, I'd go for it. He has pretty eyes."

"Reiner—"

"He's a good guy," he interrupts. "It wouldn't hurt to give him a shot."

She directs her attention to the front of the class, where the teacher is writing up the objective for the day on the whiteboard. "Why can't you just take _no _for an answer?"

"Because you seem so dishonest when you say it."

She waits a few beats, letting his response fall between the cracks to be ignored. "I have no intention of involving myself with anyone. And I certainly won't involve myself with _him_."

"Why? Because he's not good enough?"

"Because I don't know him."

"What, would _I _be a better candidate?"

Her brow twitches, and she manages an irritated smile. _You've got a point_, she thinks but doesn't dare say out loud.

"How about this," he says, leaning his elbows on his desk. "We make a bet."

She moves her gaze over to him slowly.

"You have to befriend him. Get to know him, spend some time with him; y'know..._bond _with him."

She raises a brow mockingly, as if to say, "_This _is your grand scheme?"

But he smiles, and it puts her on edge instantly. "If you fall in love with him, I win and you have to date him. This'll be our compromise."

"That's a big word for you," she comments caustically.

"Compromise?"

"Love," she scoffs. "Idiot."

"Are you implying that I'll lose?"

"I'm implying that I won't lower myself to your level. I'm not betting anything. Leave me alone." She attempts to turn back to her work, but he flattens his big hand over her papers before she can. "What?"

"You have to be nice to him anyway," he says, eyes gleaming. "If you want to pass with your '_perfect_' scores, that is."

She scowls. "_Mikasa_."

He nods, once, and grins. "Like it or not, she and I are a team here. Two against one—that's a lost fight, Annie."

The class is filling in slowly, the bell has rung by now, but she continues to glare at him until every desk in the room is occupied. "What are the conditions?" she relents.

"By the end of this year."

"No. Too long."

"I give you two months, then."

"Fine."

"But you have to make a _real _effort to be his friend. Not like with me, being a rude-ass ninety-nine percent of the time. _Try_ to be a _decent _person for once."

The teacher has begun to speak, trying to gain everyone's attention.

"And how do you propose I do that?"

"Ask him questions, tell him things about yourself. Stuff like that."

The students are beginning to settle down.

"Fine, then."

"One more thing..."

She meets his gaze slowly.

"Mikasa gets to have a word in this."

"_No_."

The teacher clears her throat over their conversation, smiling kindly. "Let's get to work. We have a lab today."

"We'll talk about this later," she hisses under her breath to him.

~~...~~X~~...~~

Mikasa finds her in the hallway during passing period, hands folded calmly behind her back. For a second, Annie assumes she's only there to greet her, but then this familiar look comes over Mikasa's face and the hope plummets quickly. Of course, why _else _would Mikasa be in the upperclassmen area?

"I saw him," Mikasa says, falling into step beside her. "He has pretty eyes."

"I won't date this boy."

Mikasa fishes out her phone from the pocket of her skirt, flipping it open to show Annie the screen; her most recent text message. "I'm going to discuss the bet with you."

"I deeply regret introducing you to Reiner."

"He is a valuable comrade," Mikasa allows, holding her phone to her chest.

"I'd hate to know how much you two talk behind my back."

Mikasa only blinks innocently in response.

"We'll talk about it at lunch," Annie sighs, coming to a stop outside of her classroom.

"We'll meet in the courtyard, then. Don't skip out on me," Mikasa warns, a dark look flashing in her eyes briefly. She turns on her heel and strides away, long legs propelling her down the hallway and out of sight much faster than Annie anticipates.

She pinches the bridge of her nose and shuts her eyes. A headache has formed at her temples.

~~...~~X~~...~~

Reiner waits at one of the benches in the courtyard, scarfing down a bag of chips in the most revolting display she has ever witnessed. When she's close enough, she hears him sucking on his fingers and shivers in disgust, fighting the urge to run away and wash her hands until her palms are transparent. He spots her before she can do anything rash and waves her over, finishing the rest of his food and crumpling up the bag to toss into the trashcan a foot or so away.

"How's it going?" he greets, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Wipe your mouth," she says, stopping just shy of a few feet away from him.

He obeys, using the sleeve of his uniform. "I'm surprised you showed up. Did Mikasa threaten you or something?"

_Yes._ "I came of my own volition. I just want to get this over with, and then you two can finally leave me alone."

"Whether you want us to or not, we're still gonna bother you," he says, clasping his hands between his knees. "We're not gonna stop just because of some stupid bet."

"Then you'll be fine with me calling it off?" she asks, crossing her arms.

"Absolutely not," Mikasa replies for him, approaching from behind Annie. "You already agreed to it. No backing down. We're only here to discuss it."

Annie sighs, "I figured as much," and sets her bag down on the bench beside Reiner. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Reiner chuckles, "You make it sound as if you're getting ready for a fight."

"I am."

"The time limit is two months," Mikasa says, holding up two fingers. "To make things fair, I'll also be courting—"

"I'm not courting."

"—_befriending_ my target. The same rules apply. I will treat him as a friend and nothing more, and if things just happen to progress further than that, then that's just as well."

"If we win, and you end up liking him," Reiner adds in, "you begin a relationship with him and you _make it last_. For as long as you both can stand; poor boy might lose it being with you."

"But if _you_ win," Mikasa says, "we forget any of this happened, and you can cease contact with him. If you want, of course."

"And you won't force me into anything like this ever again," Annie demands. "I'm _not_ gonna play this game again once this is over."

"Sure," Reiner agrees. "We can think of it as an experiment, and if it ends disastrously, well...so be it."

"Anything I'm _not _allowed to do?" Annie asks, rubbing her fingers across her forehead irately.

"Don't be mean to him."

"That's a given."

"As long as nobody gets hurt in any way or form," Mikasa says, "then anything goes."

"Deal?" Reiner smiles, holding out a hand to Annie.

She stares at his hand until he drops it. "You sucked on those fingers, I'm not touching you."

"_Deal_?" Mikasa repeats for him, offering her own hand.

Annie shakes it. "Fine. Deal. Whatever. Are we done here?"

"What? Got somewhere to be?"

"I have some things I have to—"

"Miss Leonhart, Reiner," a deep voice calls from a distance, catching their attention.

She gathers her things quickly, turning to run out of there as fast as she can, but Reiner catches her by the elbow, and she looks over her shoulder to find him grinning down at her. "Well, now, that would be going against our bet, wouldn't it?" he teases. "It would be rude to ignore him."

"I'll cut you," she hisses, and she can tell he's trying not to laugh.

Mikasa is already shaking hands with the boy, and where she is usually tall and domineering, she is easily dwarfed by him. It is a strange sight to behold, and Annie is at a loss for words for a few long seconds. "I'm Mikasa Ackerman," she says. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Bertholdt, was it? Annie's told us so much about you."

_You damn liar_. "I hardly know him," Annie mutters, controlling her tone; she wants to curse them all to hell, but she isn't the sort to back down from anything, _ever_, and she certainly won't back down from _this_. She can feel him staring at her, and tries not to wonder what expression he wears, or what he's thinking.

"But you talk about him _all _the time," Reiner interjects cheerfully.

_No_.

"She says you're a smart guy," Reiner continues.

"I don't talk about him."

"Don't listen to her, she's just being shy," he says lightly, waving her off.

_No._

She glances up to find the boy looking between the three of them, face drawn in confusion.

"It's impressive," Mikasa praises, nodding her head once as if to agree with herself. "Annie never speaks kindly of anyone, even her own friends."

"But with the way she talks about you, it wouldn't seem like the two of you are strangers." She catches Reiner winking at him, and she inwardly seethes; it takes all of her power not to punch him as hard as she can from where she stands.

The boy only furrows his brow. "What?"

"Anyway," Mikasa says, "I have to meet up with my brother. He won't eat anything unless I force hm to. I will see you around, yes?" She turns to the boy completely, unleashing upon him that deceitfully benevolent smile she uses whenever she's trying to accomplish something.

The boy falls victim to it easily. "Ah...yes," he murmurs uncertainly, smiling back very slightly.

"I have to go, too. Gotta eat _something_, y'know. See you around, Bertholdt." He claps the boy on the shoulder firmly, giving him a firm shake; Bertholdt sways and then tenses beneath the force of it.

"Sure." He watches them talk away until they reach the terrace, and then turns back to Annie slowly.

Before he can say a word—and she does prepare herself for it—Reiner calls out over him: "Annie!" He's standing in the shade, grinning a toothy grin, a malicious look in his eyes. "Don't forget what we talked about!"

"Go away!" she shouts back, and throws rock at his feet. He disappears into the school, his chuckles following after him.

"You have...very interesting friends, Miss Leonhart," Bertholdt murmurs, eyes trained on the area Reiner had been standing before. "I would've imagined them to be a little less...animated."

"You're being too kind," she mumbles. "They're annoying."

He smiles nervously. "I didn't think they were. Reiner was particularly friendly. He spoke to me this morning."

_I heard_, she thinks surly.

"Mikasa seems like a lovely young lady," he continues softly. "I think you really have chosen your friends well."

She only hums in response, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. She reaches into her bag.

"I'm new here," he says, "so I still don't have any friends." He grows quiet and then hurries to say, "That's not to say I want to force you to be my friend or anything, I just—"

She presses a sandwich against his arm and he stops talking immediately. She feels him look down at her curiously and only presses it more firmly into his elbow. "You must be hungry," she mutters, clenching her free hand into a fist at her side; honestly, the effort it takes to be _nice_ is more difficult than she originally figured. "You can eat this."

He takes it, asks, "What about you? Haven't you eaten?"

"Of course I have," she lies easily. "It's not like I'd give up my own food _just _to feed _you_."

He smiles again, carefully, and then says, "You're very kind, Miss Leonhart."

She is too surprised by the compliment to react when the bell rings, but quickly snaps herself out of her daze and steps away from him. "I need to get to class," she states shortly, and then proceeds to nearly run toward the other side of the courtyard. She stops herself before she can completely step onto the terrace, looking over her shoulder. The expression on his face is unreadable from her vantage point. "I'll...see you later, then."

The small smile he gives is easier to decipher.

~~...~~X~~...~~

After thoroughly chewing out Reiner, and then mumbling her complaints to an overly satisfied Mikasa, Annie has to heave a sigh of relief that the day is over. She drags her feet all the way to the train station, and only briefly lets herself feel irritated when she realizes that today will be a little more busy than usual, crossing her arms tight as she stands near the large crowd waiting on the platform.

She almost misses it, but her name is called from somewhere behind her. She knows who it is, tries not to turn and run in the opposite direction as fast as she can—really, their teasing has left more of an impression on her than she lets on—and nods to him in greeting when he steps up beside her. The chattering around them slips between them and fills up the spaces where their lack of conversation doesn't.

This is one of those moments Annie regrets not being more sociable.

Luckily, he speaks up first. "The sandwich was good," he comments lightly.

She curls her fingers into her sleeves, pressing her lips together. "I, uh...used smoked ham...and fresh lettuce," she replies, quickly regretting speaking at all.

But he smiles in spite of her awkwardness, says, "I really liked it, thank you."

She wants to laugh, perhaps for the mere irony of it all. Here she is, the supposed loner of the school, _bonding _with the new student over _sandwiches_. And then she wants to punch something, because she's losing the bet already and it hasn't even been a day yet. "Good."

When the train arrives, it's a scramble to get on first, and she's nearly knocked over by some other passengers. The squeeze onto the train is difficult and more than a little uncomfortable. She is set just beside the doors, which could be dangerous considering the amount of stops along the way, and she has to turn herself toward them in order to avoid the strange old men ogling her and just about every other young woman on board.

For some reason, she feels a bit better knowing he's beside her the whole time.

"Let me ask you something," she says at some point, because the curiosity is killing her at this point.

"Yes?" His voice is somewhere above her, although she's sure he's already leaned down to speak to her.

"What did Reiner tell you this morning?"

"Ah..." Here, his voice is suddenly very flustered.

_Don't fucking tell me_.

"Well...he said that you... Well, that you—I mean..."

_Son of a bitch. _

"He said that you—I... I'm not sure if I should tell you. He kept saying he didn't want me to tell you..."

_I'll fucking kill him. Sabotaging me like this_. "What did he say?" she repeats, voice more calm than she feels.

"Well...that he thought you and I would make a good couple..."

She sighs in relief. And here she thought he made the boy believe she already had feelings for him. Of course he wouldn't be _that _stupid. Reiner has learned his lesson before, she's made sure of it.

Bertholdt is trying to appease her, for some reason. She hopes this isn't because of some forewarning Reiner has given him. "I told him I barely knew you, though, so... N—Not that you aren't likeable or anything—you're pretty—I think—I'm sorry, I'll stop talking..." he sputters when she looks up over at him.

For some reason, the blush on his face makes her feel ticklish somewhere in her middle.

She tries not to wonder why.

~~...~~X~~...~~

**A.N.****: Hey. I see you finished the second chapter (pops confetti) congrats, kid.**

**Sorry, I've been talking like this all day and I don't know why it's affecting my writing as well. Good thing I finished this chapter last night or the whole thing would be all...sarcastic and stuff.**

**Anyway, so I hope you liked this chapter as well. I'll have the next one up whenever I stop being sick and sneezing everywhere. (Funny, I was gonna go on a trip up north and then my body just suddenly decided to get sick when it never, **_**ever **_**does normally. Jerk.)**

**Please review! Let me know what you think. Am I going too slow? Am I doing just fine? Should I stop asking these questions? Whatever, you know?**

**By the way, I have a tumblr now. Same name.**

**(I'm gonna lie down now.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.****: Sorry, this took a bit. I told you I haven't done a multi-chaptered story in a while. **

**I can only eat non-solid food at the moment. It makes you realize how solid most food _is_.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own ****_Shingeki no Kyojin_.**

The school is divided in two halves, one side for the underclassmen and one for the upperclassmen. This division was created to serve as some sort of organization for the school, giving students more time to focus on their classes rather than simply socializing, which would be saved for common areas such as courtyards, sport fields, and the cafeteria. It has, indeed, done its job well, even if many of the students complain that it takes from the experience of school itself.

The division begins and ends at the center of the school, where the cafeteria is. Underclassmen are to go to the east and upperclassmen go to the west—if viewed from the front of the school, that is—and between those areas, many of the students can mingle and talk as they please between passing periods.

It's as Annie is making a customary turn to the upperclassmen half that Mikasa catches up to her, separating herself from a group of girls her own age to join her. They fall into step together easily, but Annie notes that Mikasa's strides have shortened considerably. "I don't see you carrying an umbrella," Mikasa commented before Annie can say anything. "It's going to rain today."

"I'm aware of that," she replies with a sigh, tucking her hair back toward her ear. "What are you doing following me? This side is for upperclassmen only."

"I wanted to relay my progress," Mikasa states simply, lifting her chin primly. "I'm going over to his house today for a study session."

"That was fast."

Her cheeks pink faintly. "I didn't think so."

"How does this concern me?"

She composes herself quickly, dropping her rattled expression. "You should do the same with Bertholdt."

"Oh look, we've arrived at my classroom," Annie says lightly, reaching for the nearest door handle and pushing open the door.

"Annie—"

"I'll see you later. Good luck with your, uh...date." She slips into the classroom and lets the door fall shut behind her.

It's the wrong classroom. This is her English class and her next subject is a math one, but she waits until Mikasa's footsteps fade away before turning to open the door.

"Miss Leonhart," a deep voice calls from the teacher's desk. She hadn't realized Mr. Smith was also in the class. "It's good you're here. I need to talk to you."

She faces him. "Regarding?"

"Your marks."

"Ah."

He smiles patiently. "I've been informed that you've managed to befriend our new student—well done, by the way—but I imagine this friendship is quite...distant." He shuffles through some papers on his desk, holding one up to read. "He's still catching up with our work. I'm afraid his former school was a bit behind us." He sets aside the piece of paper and gives a grand gesture. "Why don't you two set up some dates? For tutoring."

She presses her lips together in a tight line. This has to be a coincidence. "Are you sure I'm the right person for this?"

His brows raise in surprise. "Why, certainly. You're my best student, after all. I have only the highest opinion of you."

She wraps her hand around the door handle, lowering her gaze to her feet. "If I may, who told you about my...befriending the new boy?"

"Mr. Braun told me." He looks at her closely. "Is there a problem, Miss Leonhart?"

"None at all, sir."

~~...~~X~~...~~

"I take it you talked to Mr. Smith," he says slowly, reaching up to pry her fingers from his collar, but to no avail. Her nails bit his skin the tighter she held on.

"You have five seconds to explain yourself," she warns in a clipped tone.

He smiles wryly. "'Anything goes,' remember?"

She flops back into her chair with a sigh. "I shouldn't have agreed to this."

"C'mon," he insists, "it won't be so bad."

"I don't even know how to ask him," she mutters, folding her arms. Her lack of experience with anything along these lines is beginning to really show its hideous head at her, reminding her that she should've probably attended to these things earlier.

He smirks, and it only serves to irritate her further. "Are we feeling nervous now?"

She glares; he shrinks back, holding up his hands. "I'm feeling like committing homicide."

"You're so _mean_ to me, Annie," he whines, dropping his hands completely.

"It's what you deserve for doing this to me," she snaps.

"Mikasa would've found a way to do the same anyway," he says, scratching behind his ear idly. The teacher is beginning to speak, quieting the class.

"You two never should've met," she mumbles, turning to face the front.

He only shrugs. "This was bound to happen anyway. Even if I'd never met Mikasa, I still would've tried to set you up with _someone_."

"Why?" she asks, although not entirely interested to know.

But he smiles again, a little less smug than he usually does. "Because we're friends, that's why."

She turns back to the front. "Get out your supplies. Class is starting."

He chuckles, but does as she says.

~~...~~X~~...~~

A few minutes before the lunch bell rings, she flicks a crumpled scrap of notebook paper at Reiner. He looks at her from the corner of his eye, shifting away when the teacher comes walking by. "What?" he whispers, pretending to check his pencil for lead.

Thankfully, Annie's voice is softer than his. "I don't know how I should ask him," she replies shortly, handing him an eraser when the teacher turns to look at them.

He scrubs something off his paper. "Don't worry about it. It'll come to you."

She takes the proffered eraser, sliding back into her seat. "I think you have too much faith in me."

"_Shh_," the teacher hisses in passing, and they quiet immediately.

The bell rings, and every student is standing to hand in their quizzes. She takes her time putting her things away, makes sure she's one of the last to step out into the busy hallway. She slaps Reiner on the arm before he can run off to the cafeteria like he usually does. "I'm being serious here," she says, fixing the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"So am I," he shrugs. "It _will _come to you." She presses her lips into a hard line as another friend of his hooks their arm through his and drags him down the hallway. "Later. And good luck," he calls, waving with his free hand just before turning and clapping his friend on the shoulder.

She lets out an irritated huff and pivots on her heel, stomping all the way to the library. Fellow students scramble out of her way before they can be shoved or kicked—she honestly doesn't understand where they got the idea that she's a bully, but it does help when she's in moods like these—and she makes it to her destination with time to spare. There are one or two other students here already, finishing some essays or projects at the last minute. She finds a quiet corner to sit at, picks a small novel from the adventure section to read while she eats her lunch.

She's midway between the climax and the resolution when she hears footsteps approaching, the mandatory hard-soled shoes of the school uniform tapping against the neat wooden floors. She glances up out of habit, and has to do a double-take immediately. She has to stop herself before she exclaims something like, "What the hell are _you _doing here?"

As strange as it is to admit, she doesn't quite want to hurt his feelings. She can't let that damned bet influence her anymore than she already has.

Instead, she shuts the book in her hands and nods at him once in greeting. "Hello," she says as politely as she can.

He smiles nervously, fidgeting under her gaze. "Is it alright if I sit with you?" he asks sheepishly.

She looks over at all the empty tables visible from her corner, and has to wonder why he chose _here_, of all places, to sit. "...Yes," she replies slowly. He pulls the chair next to her out, setting his things on the table before sitting down.

He begins to pull out notebooks, and she decides to do the same.

There isn't really anything she has to work on—she's made sure of that—but she suddenly feels strange, with him around, and has the urge to distract herself before she does..._something_. She's not sure what, but she doesn't understand it. It makes her hands tremble a little and her stomach feel oddly light and empty.

Which reminds her. "Have you eaten?"

The lead of his pencil breaks and he glances over at her quickly. She can see a faint tinge of pink on his skin. "Ah—yes, I have," he mumbles, continuing on with some assignment she recalls from history. She's surprised when he speaks up again. "Um... A sandwich...like the one you gave me." He smiles bashfully, brushing off some eraser shavings from his paper. "I liked it a lot, so I made one for myself."

This, for some reason, makes the feeling in the pit of her stomach intensify. She has to clear her throat and busy her hands with pulling out assignments that didn't need working on to work on.

He stutters, regaining her attention a little easier than he should, "Ah—Should I have made one for you, too? I feel like I should've—wait, that's too weird—I'm sorry, I'll let you work now." He goes back to scribbling out some responses to an article she knows doesn't need as much skepticism as he's giving it.

She stares down at her hands, cradling a pink mechanical pencil she doesn't remember buying in one and a white eraser in the other, the words on her paper blurring out of focus. "No," she murmurs. "No, I don't think it would've been weird at all."

She can feel him staring at her now, and she's glad that, this time, she actually catches an error in her paper and can settle herself down to correcting it instead of dealing with his confusion. After a few moments, he, too, goes back to working. She can somehow feel this tension leave the air between them, and tries not to wonder why.

The bell will ring in another few minutes, and she puts her things away accordingly. He seems to have finished most of his assignments by now, moving on to a set of math problems he apparently has no trouble with; he answers each one before she can do the work in her own head. She is about to stand up when she remembers what she's supposed to do, and has to clamp a hand around the back of her chair to straighten out the suddenly jumbled parts of her mind, gritting her teeth hard.

"I was wondering," she says carefully, waiting until he pauses long enough to look at her. His expression is patiently curious. "You see...the material we're working on in English is very difficult..."

When she doesn't continue, he replies, "It is, yes," and waits for her to finish her thought.

"Well... I was wondering if you needed any help with it," she says, and pulls her fingers apart as they begin to twist into the end of her skirt. "If, perhaps, we could meet up and study—together."

He blinks, a blush slowly forming on his cheeks, only faintly. She can't figure what it means exactly. From embarrassment or nervousness or excitement, it is impossible to know. "You...want to help me?" he asks, setting down his pencil completely. "Are you sure?"

_Did I insult him? His old school was behind, after all... _

She grabs the straps of her bag, pulling it toward her. "Why not? I have nothing better to do and I just happen to have the best grades in class." She tugs the bag into her lap, checking the zipper idly. "Besides, I don't mind you all that much."

She supposes this is as close as she'll get to ever complimenting someone. She hopes he'll understand that much.

He is quiet, for a few moments, watching her slender fingers play around with the teeth of her bag's zipper. "I would like to," he murmurs, turning away when she looks up at him. He rubs his hand over the burning in his cheek and begins to put his things away to buy him time.

She suddenly stands, startling him. "Very well, then," she says, pulling her bag straps up her shoulder and stepping around her chair to push it back in. "We'll meet after school." Then she begins to walk away, toward the exit.

"T—_Today_?" he splutters, standing from his seat, too. She looks at him over her shoulder, blue eyes sharp.

"Is that a problem?"

"No," he hurries to say, "but don't you think it's a little soon?"

"Nonsense," she replies, continuing her path toward the doors. "It's never too soon to fix your grades."

He doesn't have the heart to argue against that.

"After school," she repeats firmly. "_Today_."

He smiles at her back, whispers a small, "Yes, ma'am," just before she lets the doors fall shut behind her.

~~...~~X~~...~~

Reiner is smirking up at her the moment she sets foot in the classroom. Her quick mind surmises why, eyes scanning across the room thoroughly. There aren't many other people in the room, and those who are have gathered at different areas too talk or discuss their previous essay; something superficial and uninteresting. What stands out in the unbelievably dull classroom is the very tall boy heading toward the back, where his desk sits waiting for him. Immediately, she traces back what she thinks must've been his path to and from there, and deduces that he had just been ambushed by Reiner.

She suddenly doesn't want to be here anymore.

"What are you staring at?" she snaps, forcing herself forward. She will not let Reiner bring her down anymore than he already has. Mentally, she promises to push him down a flight of stairs when she gets the chance.

"I'm surprised at you," he comments condescendingly. "You actually did it."

"Listen here," she hisses, gathering a small fistful of his collar and yanking him forward; his eyes widen and he grabs at the edges of his desk. "You keep mocking me like this and I _will _beat the hell out of you. _Yes_, I did it. _Yes_, I'm going to be alone with this boy. Does it matter? No, because it doesn't change anything."

He's chuckling halfway through her tirade, and she pulls back a fist instinctively to punch him in the nose.

"Annie, stop bullying Reiner," a girl named Ymir she's never spoken a word to before calls from across the room. She sits just beside Bertholdt, so that when Annie looks up to _kindly_ tell the girl to _stay out of my fucking business,_ she is forced to look at Bertholdt as well.

He looks surprised and just a little afraid.

She releases Reiner and proceeds toward her desk. She feels somewhat guilty now.

"This is exactly why everyone's afraid of you," Reiner murmurs, leaning toward her. He's fixing his collar back into place, and she's vaguely relieved he's not holding anything against her. "Now you've gone and scared _him_, too," he sighs. "You're hopeless."

She sets her jaw determinedly. "He _won't _skip out on me," she mutters. "I'll make sure of that."

Reiner eyes her warily. "Don't hurt him or anything."

"I'm not allowed to hurt anyone according to the rules of the bet."

"Right. Good."

"But I won't make any promises."

"_Annie_."

~~...~~X~~...~~

The minute the bell rings, she shoves her things into her bag and stands to head to the back of the room.

"Excited?" Reiner teases. She punches him in the arm. "You're so _mean_ to me, Annie."

"Shut up," she snaps. "Don't you dare try to make yourself out as the victim. You're part of the reason everyone's afraid of me in the first place." She continues walking toward the back, shooting over her shoulder, "And leave me alone, I have things to do."

She ignores his suggestive snickers.

Bertholdt is still putting his things away—she notices that Ymir has already bolted out of the classroom; maybe to hang out with that short blonde in Mikasa's year Annie always sees her around—and he glances up at her approach. Where she expects to see some flash of fear or panic, she instead finds the same kindly expression he always seems to have for her. He smiles that same timid smile and she figures the whole incident was dismissed entirely.

She has to wonder why.

"Where would you like to go?" he asks, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him.

She catches Reiner hurrying out the door on the other side from the corner of her eye, and turns to look. He's already gone, though, before she can.

"Somewhere quiet," she replies, pausing as he reaches past her to open the door. She steps out before him and turns to head down the hallway to the main exit. "So we won't be distracted too easily."

"Oh. I think I know a place—"

"Annie," Mikasa's voice interrupts. Annie has to stop walking, then, because Mikasa is suddenly in front of her, arms crossed and back straight; a pose that reminds her of a predator fit to attack.

"What?" Annie furrows her brow, taking a step back.

"I heard you and Bertholdt here—hello, by the way—"

"...Hello—"

"—will be studying together at your house."

"Who said—" Annie begins, but her quick mind is already clicking things together.

_Fucking Reiner_.

"I think that is the perfect location for studying. Quietly." Mikasa's dark eyes flash. "Alone."

This all seems incredibly scripted to Annie. "I suppose so," she allows, "but I never—"

"I need to go now," Mikasa says, spinning on her heel and moving ahead of them. She turns a corner Annie knows for a fact Mikasa has no need to turn, and then she's simply out of sight.

Bertholdt's nervous chuckle breaks the awkward silence left over. "Your friends never cease to surprise me," he says.

_Same here_, she thinks morosely.

"Shall we get going?" he asks, nodding toward the main exit, visible from here. "We'll miss the train at this rate."

"That's right." She snaps to attention, quickening her pace; he keeps up easily. "We'll have to take the next train if we don't hurry. That one's always crowded." She isn't sure why she's explaining this to him. There's no real reason for it, but she feels obligated to.

By the time they arrive, she can tell that there will most certainly be a crowd, heaving a sigh of annoyance as they head down the flight of stairs to the platform. She has to shove her way past some people that refuse to budge, though it makes no difference because once the train slides up into place, there's a storm of people swarming up around and past her to board. She nearly falls, but a strong hand catches her by the shoulder and steadies her.

"Are you alright?" he asks kindly, replacing his hand between her shoulder blades to guide her onto the train, now that the scramble has ended.

"I'm fine." It is as jammed as she had feared; he can't even grab hold of the handles, so many hands are already occupying them. They're not by the doors, at least. It seems preferable standing by the windows; less people gather there.

Well, it would. Except she isn't quite small enough to keep from touching _him_, as tightly packed as they all are. She folds her arms across her stomach and twists away when the train sways and makes her bump against him, but it doesn't stop them from actually _touching_, and that's what bothers her most. Her elbow can press into his hip or her shoulder can jab up against his middle, and this confuses her own thoughts.

_Is it bothering him?_

_This is very uncomfortable._

_Was I always this short?_

_He feels really warm._

"Miss Leonhart," he says, bringing her back to reality.

She's glad he can't see the blush on her face. "What is it?"

"Will your parents be home? I wouldn't want to invade on your privacy if you don't want me to."

This question surprises her enough that she nearly loses her footing when the train shakes, her cheek brushing against shirt very briefly before she straightens herself quickly. She notices his hands rose to help her; he drops them when she's still again. "No," she replies, looking out the window as the train passes from underground to level ground, the streets and houses and trees outside. "They're both working late today."

"Alright, then," he says, and lets himself go quiet. It only lasts a quick second before he mumbles, "We'll be alone, then?"

"Yes," she replies thoughtlessly. She slowly realizes what she said and has to refrain from clapping her hands over her mouth in her surprise. "Yes. We will be."

"_I heard you and Bertholdt...will be studying together at your house... Alone._"

She narrows her eyes at her reflection, doesn't even bother to wonder if he can see her expression on the window, as her suspicions are confirmed. It was definitely scripted.

_Fucking Reiner_.

~~...~~X~~...~~

**A.N.****: Woo, progress. **

**Anyway, please review and let me know what you think so far!**


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